What a world we live in when a book like this is out of print, (although available for small change online). Elizabeth Jenkins was nearly ninety when she wrote A Silent Joy, which invokes the 1950s with a combination of nostalgia and clear-eyed moral distaste. She doesn’t exactl…
It is difficult to think of Patsy Markham being dead. She had so much presence. So many of her qualities were expansive without being crude. Like a por…
Henry Oliver
This is what Boswell has to say about a strange gap in the record of Johnson’s life: It is somewhat curious, that his literary career appears to have b…
Henry Oliver
There will be no apology for the title. This seems not only a fair question, but an essential one. Unless we can think about Churchill as someone who w…
Henry Oliver
Is there a better piece of writing about the pleasures of rain? Jeremy Fisher is a domestic there-and-back-again story based on a traditional, rural, E…
Henry Oliver
There should be a museum of biography. It would have no permanent collections, only exhibitions, unless it could become an archival centre for biograph…
Henry Oliver
No-one can act with their sinuses like Jack Lemon. Shirley MacLaine is his perfect opposite because she expresses so much with only very subtle facial …
Henry Oliver
Aesop is often outdated. The morals of his stories don’t always make sense anymore. For sure, some of them are timeless. No-one’s going to argue that t…
Henry Oliver
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